Post by allyyyyyyyy. on May 5, 2009 20:57:46 GMT -5
This isn't fanfiction, so I hope I posted this in the right spot. Anyways, I wrote this and I'm trying to find someone to give me constructive criticism. Any type of feedback is good, too.
Random info: I was just really bored last night and decided to write this. It's like a prologue--or whatever that word is where it's a chapter before the first chapter. Yeah, I don't think that makes sense. Anyways, if you want to read it in it's original PDF format, you can download it here: www.sendspace.com/file/6n6fqf. Thanks!
The hallways of Ryorda High School were dark and empty. It had been hours since a student had set foot on the cold linoleum floors. Moonlight shone through the window, lighting only small areas dimly. The silence was deafening. A pin could drop, but no one would be around to hear it.
The only light visible throughout the school was that coming from Mr. Harkin’s room. Though he wasn’t there, the class hamster--which was normally against school rules, but the principal made an exception when Harkin claimed the rodent brightened his student’s days--caused the motion detectors to light the room.
James Harkin was always the student’s favorite teacher. Even though he taught the widely-hated subject of Calculus, everyone enjoyed the fact that homework seemed to be an option rather than a requirement; thus earning him the nickname of “Pushover”.
But there was one thing the student body didn’t know about dear old James “Pushover” Harkin…
It was a well-known fact that Mr. Harkin often left the top right window of his classroom open. Whether this was accidental or on purpose, no one knew or bothered to question it. Students frequently used the open window as a 24-hour access door into the school. While most of them only broke into the school to do a little on-campus drinking to show how “badass” they were, others came with the intention of leaving their mark on hallway walls and lockers.
Graffiti. Harkin hated it. The students who committed the act of vandalism were always his next victims.
Harkin loved Ryorda High School. He claimed that it was the most beautiful school he had ever taught at in the past 35 years of his teaching career. To see it spray painted on… Well, that just wasn’t an option.
Every night, he waited until 2 a.m. for someone to crawl through his classroom window toting a can of spray paint. It had been awhile since he caught the last student--a freshman boy who was dared to let everyone know that Principal Hill “sucks” via a can of forest green.
Harkin put the can to good use.
Tonight was yet another Thursday. Thursday was always the most popular night for vandalism. Students could break in, leave their mark for all to see on Friday morning, then have the weekend to bask in the glory of their daring act before being caught on Monday.
But students rarely got caught anymore. Not since Harkin started working at RHS.
Waiting patiently inside locker 201, he could hear the sound of his classroom window banging shut. It was going to be a good night. He had been waiting for another student dumb enough to try to mark his beloved school with stupid phrases.
“Shut up, dude!” the voice of a male student rang through the hallway.
“This isn’t a good idea, man!” another male. This one’s voice was less deep, and had a slight speech impediment with every “s” sound.
“Well if you don’t want to be here, then why did you come with?”
It was obvious the first boy was the leader, and the second one was merely following along to make himself look cooler.
Stupid students, Harkin thought, rolling his eyes as the two boys came into view.
“We’re gonna get caught!”
“Then fucking leave, dipshit,” the leader said, uncapping the can of spray paint and shaking it.
The sound of the two metal balls clicking inside the can was enough to make Harkin go mad.
Calming his temper, Harkin popped out of the locker he was hiding in and surprised the boys. The leader stayed put while the follower ran the other direction.
“Smart boy,” Harkin commented, watching him go.
“Look, man. I know what this looks like, and you’ve got it all wrong!” the leader said, trying to sound confident.
“I’m not here to judge, young man,” he put on a smile, warm and deep.
The leader relaxed a bit and recapped the can.
Harkin’s smile widened, “If you’ll kindly follow me back into my office so you can come out the way you came in, it would be much appreciated.”
As soon as they were inside the classroom, Harkin shut the door behind him and cleared his throat.
“Before you leave… may I have that?”
The leader handed the spray paint over slowly, his hand shaking a bit.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Harkin said gently, taking the can.
“I’m not,” the leader said, straightening his jacket and pushing his wavy blonde hair out of his face.
“Then will you do something for me before you go?”
“Sure, man.”
“Close your eyes.”
The leader did as told. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stood patiently.
Harkin raised the spray paint high over his head and hit the boy in the back of the skull with the butt of the can.
The boy fell to the floor, knocked out. Harkin walked over to his desk, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a small axe.
“I. hate. people. who. destroy. my. property!” Harkin said each word with every chop of the axe.
Blood seeped onto the linoleum floor.
Not only was dear old Mr. Harkin a pushover, he was also a murderer.
Comments/constructive criticism is very much appreciated. (:
Random info: I was just really bored last night and decided to write this. It's like a prologue--or whatever that word is where it's a chapter before the first chapter. Yeah, I don't think that makes sense. Anyways, if you want to read it in it's original PDF format, you can download it here: www.sendspace.com/file/6n6fqf. Thanks!
The hallways of Ryorda High School were dark and empty. It had been hours since a student had set foot on the cold linoleum floors. Moonlight shone through the window, lighting only small areas dimly. The silence was deafening. A pin could drop, but no one would be around to hear it.
The only light visible throughout the school was that coming from Mr. Harkin’s room. Though he wasn’t there, the class hamster--which was normally against school rules, but the principal made an exception when Harkin claimed the rodent brightened his student’s days--caused the motion detectors to light the room.
James Harkin was always the student’s favorite teacher. Even though he taught the widely-hated subject of Calculus, everyone enjoyed the fact that homework seemed to be an option rather than a requirement; thus earning him the nickname of “Pushover”.
But there was one thing the student body didn’t know about dear old James “Pushover” Harkin…
It was a well-known fact that Mr. Harkin often left the top right window of his classroom open. Whether this was accidental or on purpose, no one knew or bothered to question it. Students frequently used the open window as a 24-hour access door into the school. While most of them only broke into the school to do a little on-campus drinking to show how “badass” they were, others came with the intention of leaving their mark on hallway walls and lockers.
Graffiti. Harkin hated it. The students who committed the act of vandalism were always his next victims.
Harkin loved Ryorda High School. He claimed that it was the most beautiful school he had ever taught at in the past 35 years of his teaching career. To see it spray painted on… Well, that just wasn’t an option.
Every night, he waited until 2 a.m. for someone to crawl through his classroom window toting a can of spray paint. It had been awhile since he caught the last student--a freshman boy who was dared to let everyone know that Principal Hill “sucks” via a can of forest green.
Harkin put the can to good use.
Tonight was yet another Thursday. Thursday was always the most popular night for vandalism. Students could break in, leave their mark for all to see on Friday morning, then have the weekend to bask in the glory of their daring act before being caught on Monday.
But students rarely got caught anymore. Not since Harkin started working at RHS.
Waiting patiently inside locker 201, he could hear the sound of his classroom window banging shut. It was going to be a good night. He had been waiting for another student dumb enough to try to mark his beloved school with stupid phrases.
“Shut up, dude!” the voice of a male student rang through the hallway.
“This isn’t a good idea, man!” another male. This one’s voice was less deep, and had a slight speech impediment with every “s” sound.
“Well if you don’t want to be here, then why did you come with?”
It was obvious the first boy was the leader, and the second one was merely following along to make himself look cooler.
Stupid students, Harkin thought, rolling his eyes as the two boys came into view.
“We’re gonna get caught!”
“Then fucking leave, dipshit,” the leader said, uncapping the can of spray paint and shaking it.
The sound of the two metal balls clicking inside the can was enough to make Harkin go mad.
Calming his temper, Harkin popped out of the locker he was hiding in and surprised the boys. The leader stayed put while the follower ran the other direction.
“Smart boy,” Harkin commented, watching him go.
“Look, man. I know what this looks like, and you’ve got it all wrong!” the leader said, trying to sound confident.
“I’m not here to judge, young man,” he put on a smile, warm and deep.
The leader relaxed a bit and recapped the can.
Harkin’s smile widened, “If you’ll kindly follow me back into my office so you can come out the way you came in, it would be much appreciated.”
As soon as they were inside the classroom, Harkin shut the door behind him and cleared his throat.
“Before you leave… may I have that?”
The leader handed the spray paint over slowly, his hand shaking a bit.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Harkin said gently, taking the can.
“I’m not,” the leader said, straightening his jacket and pushing his wavy blonde hair out of his face.
“Then will you do something for me before you go?”
“Sure, man.”
“Close your eyes.”
The leader did as told. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stood patiently.
Harkin raised the spray paint high over his head and hit the boy in the back of the skull with the butt of the can.
The boy fell to the floor, knocked out. Harkin walked over to his desk, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a small axe.
“I. hate. people. who. destroy. my. property!” Harkin said each word with every chop of the axe.
Blood seeped onto the linoleum floor.
Not only was dear old Mr. Harkin a pushover, he was also a murderer.
Comments/constructive criticism is very much appreciated. (:
